#y/n trying to bust a nut: and I would’ve gotten away with it too if it weren’t for that meddling pogue

[s-brant]

The Coconut Kiss (1/?)

(gif: @jackpearcsn) (SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: Deserted on an island with their friends, JJ and Y/N are trapped in paradise with the one person they’ve never gotten along with: each other. But with nothing else to do and no privacy to be found by living together in close quarters, she begins to lust after her enemy. The question is, does he feel the same way?

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: Smut and strong language.

A/N: Welcome to the new story. This isn’t planned out to be as long as Tokens, it’s more of a two to three part mini series. It’s more of a fun, laid back story than the last, so I hope you have a lot of fun with it. Thanks for reading! Let me know if you enjoyed this.

There are many downsides to getting stranded on a deserted island with your five best friends and their friend from Nassau, but Y/N thinks her least favorite has to be the lack of privacy.

It may sound stupid. It may make her seem crazy for caring about something as insignificant and frivolous in the grand scheme of things, but part of why it's so frustrating is because she can't find the time to touch herself without someone coming along to hang with her. And by someone, she means JJ.

Is it weird for that her number one complaint about being marooned on an island with no purified water, plumbing, or civilization is that she can't sneak away from her companions long enough to masturbate? Probably. It has more to do with the general lack of privacy than it specifically does the "self love" aspect, but that's not to say it isn't incredibly frustrating.

For the first week or so, it wasn't a thought in her mind.

Her existence on Poguelandia, as JJ so kindly named their slice of undisturbed Caribbean paradise, consisted of bodysurfing with her friends, living off of fish they hunted and coconuts they climbed trees to reach, and falling asleep on the beach until they managed to begin constructing a stable form of shelter to protect themselves from the weather. As idyllic as it felt when they first landed ashore, they had to lay down plans to survive until they found a way off the island.

They all practically worshipped the ground Pope walked on for a while once they realized how much more knowledgeable he was about this than they were. JJ recalled a particularly significant memory of him, Kie, and John B teasing him for reading up on wildness survival techniques in middle school, but the genius ended up being the one to save their lives.

He was the one, not John B, who naturally assumed a leader role without meaning to. There are no actual "leaders" between them, it definitely isn't verging into Lord of the Flies territory, but he guided them on crucial tips to survival—like how to filter the water from the fresh water stream with their shirts, what plants were safe to eat, and how to build fire once the fluid in JJ's zippo lighter runs out.

She huffs under the unforgiving heat, pouring her frustration into the process of thatching the roof of the shelter she and JJ were forced into building together by none other than Sarah Cameron, her best friend since kindergarten.

The thing about her relationship with JJ is, they've despised each other since they learned of each other's existence in the first place. She hates him for his arrogant, womanizing ways while he hates her for her stuck up, rich bitch attitude that only he seems to see. The rest of his friends tried to convince him that she's just like Sarah, Kook royalty on the outside and Pogue on the inside, but he refused to see their side of it.

Their endeavors to find the treasure over the summer helped melt away the icy exteriors they displayed in each others' presence to the point where they actually got along well for a while, but it all changed after the first week of being washed up on the island. It changed for two reasons: he likes to get under her skin when they're building together...and she's a sexually frustrated idiot.

It's bad enough that she can't relieve her stress or pent up frustration in the way she usually does, then here JJ goes making it a million times worse.

In a moment of mercy from Mother Nature, a breeze runs up the beach to blow strands from the half-braided updo Kie did around her sunburnt face. It makes her take a second to pause amidst the physical labor of what they're doing, but, as per usual, he distracts from her peaceful moment.

Her focus shifts from her diligent work on the roof of their shared hut, which is only tall enough for them both to kneel inside of, to where he lolls his head back to the sky and makes the most overdramatic moan of relief known to humankind. The first instinct she has is to rolls her eyes at it, but underneath of her pretend annoyance with him lies something far, far different.

The desire she has kept buried deep down for weeks surges to the surface at the suggestive sound that escapes him, and she wishes they didn't, but her stare can't help but trail over him while his eyes are shut in appreciation of the breeze.

Come on, she thinks, it's like he's trying to make it worse.

It's gratuitous at this point, isn't it?

The moan of relief that her overactive imagination runs away with, the sheen of sweat coating him that shines in the sun, and the bronzed shade of his skin that pronounces his defined muscles to an infuriating degree as they flex with his movements—she's gonna bonk herself in the head with a coconut in order to steal a few hours of peace away from this.

She silently thanks whatever higher power that looks over her for not having any of their friends around, 'cause she is blatantly eye-fucking him now. Saliva pools in the inside of her mouth enough for her to swallow thickly around it and chew her bottom lip in recognition of his beauty, 'cause damn.

If this were any other guy she were lusting after, she'd have an outlet for her feelings through talking to Sarah or Kie about it. If it were anyone other than the boy she's upholding a rivalry with, she could march up to Sarah tonight after dinner and groan about how she wants to climb him like a tree, but no! Since this isn't another guy and this is her nemesis-turned-reluctant friend since the seventh grade, she'd rather suffer.

She'd get a chorus of "I told you so's" from their friends after the multitude of times they were told by them that they have a sizzling tension between them.

John B and Pope called him out on it right away to the extent that it's a running inside joke between them that they've been secretly dating for years. Meanwhile, Kiara and Sarah have been attempting to get her to admit her attraction to him that didn't exist for months...until they ended up here. Until the rest of their friends had to pair up voluntarily with each other and leave them as the last two without a partner to lodge with.

She begged politely asked Kie to be the third party to their group instead of choosing to stay with Pope and Cleo only to be shot down with a wink and a sly comment to, "Enjoy the one on one time with your boyfriend." For a second or two after the other girl left, Y/N jokingly entertained the idea of bonking him with a coconut instead of herself before her stupid conscience came in and ruined it.

The light shade of his blonde hair is intensified from the constant hours spent under the sun, even with their efforts to find shade and avoid burning as much as possible. She's bombarded with an image of her tugging on it while his head is buried between her thighs, transfixed at the thought of the moan that fell from his lips in the context of her fantasy before she snaps out of it.

"You done?" she asks dryly.

JJ's head comes back down to look at the roof of the hut again, and when he looks at her, he finds her glaring at him. His response is a laugh, reaching forward to lay another wide, fanning palm tree leaf over the bare bones of the structure crafted from driftwood and sturdy branches.

"Why do Kooks always have to ruin the mood? I know you enjoy the breeze too," he shrugs, "it's hot as balls out here."

She wants to ask, "Why do you always ruin my mood?" but bites her tongue to conceal the true intentions behind her wandering walks to explore the island. If he knew why she keeps seeking out time to herself by venturing through every inch of their deserted island, he'd never let her live it down.

It's happened three times now within the past week.

Y/N, about to blow her lid if she doesn't release her stress in any way other than fist fighting JJ over one of his sarcastic jabs at her, tries to find a new place every time. Since he tagged along every other time and found all of her potential hiding spots, the most recent time she tried to find a place to be alone, she started hiking through the trees to see the lagoon on the other side of the island. It was roughly thirty seconds into it when she heard him trampling through the forest after her, saying something about her ditching him for "their" walks.

Apparently, him intruding on her attempts to masturbate without being interrupted by their friends has become a thing they do, and now whenever he notices her leaving for a walk, it's an open invitation. If her sexual frustration weren't caused by him in the first place, she'd probably find it cute.

It is cute when she really thinks about it.

A few months ago, he wouldn't have spared her a second glance. Now, they joke around and go on walks together. Who would've thought that a failed treasure hunt and being stranded on a deserted island would change their relationship for the better? The fact that they're more than civil with each other would've blown past Y/N and JJ's minds.

She narrows her eyes at him.

"We're on an island in the middle of fuckass nowhere where there's literally no such thing as a class hierarchy and you're still on the Kooks versus Pogues thing? I gotta hand it to you, JJ, you're very dedicated."

"No need to break out the fancy words on me"—he watches her face scrunch as she mouths, "Fancy words?" in confusion—"I know why you're really mad, Princess."

His face is serious when he says the last part, and it makes her stomach drop with the dread of thinking he somehow figured out the secret attraction she has to him. Even though there's no way he could know, since she's kept it to herself and has not said a word to Sarah this whole time, she feels as though he can see right through her.

Cerulean waves crest onto the pale shore further down behind him, but the calming sound of it does little to soothe the sudden spike of stress he's causing inside of her. She tries not to let it show on her face on the chance that he isn't talking about what she thinks he is, not wanting to surrender any information when she doesn't have to.

After a second or two of silence, his expression shifts into a grin as he says, "You're mad 'cause you can't spearfish as good as me."

Though the playful remark has her outwardly groaning, she's secretly relieved. There was no reason to jump to the conclusion that he was somehow capable of mind reading and discovered she was fantasizing about him, but that was a genuine concern in the moment.

As soon as the worry fades, his comment about spearfishing clicks with her.

"I'm not good at spearfishing because I don't want to be. It's barbaric. You can't tell me you actually enjoy stabbing an animal like that, can you?"

She isn't anywhere near the level Kiara has reached with protecting animals, considering her strictly vegan diet out of compassion for other living creatures, but she is human after all. How could she look at those cute fish and want them to die? He and John B keeled over with laughter the last time they had this debate when they heard her ask, "What if that fish had a family? I can't break up a family!"

Not to mention, it is kinda hard too.

They have to perch themselves on the jagged rocks jutting out into a small peninsula into the shallow water and wait for the most opportune moment to aim the spear into a passing fish. The emergency kit on the dinghy they stole from the Coastal Venture came with very few things: hydrogen peroxide, gauze, bandages, a multi-tool, a single dose package of Tylenol, a deck of cards, and a spear.

Since JJ and John B, her partners for the alternating day schedule they use to balance the responsibility of hunting between them all, are much more proficient in it than her, one of them usually gets the real spear while she is stuck with a wooden one. She crafted it herself on a boring afternoon, using the serrated blade on the multitool to sharpen the end of it into a fine tip for her first day on the water with them.

He finishes braiding the leaves of the palm tree leaf together, looping two long pieces around the branch bridging the back and front of the hut together, and lets his arms fall to his sides.

"Hate to break it to you, Princess," he says with words laced in condescension, "but your job ain't just to sit there and look pretty. You have to contribute like the rest of us."

Y/N doesn't hesitate to retort to him as she walks around the side of the hut and props her bent arm up onto the freshly woven roof, her mouth spreading into a shit-eating grin, "You think I'm pretty?"

He lets himself look her up and down for a generous couple of seconds.

No shit, he thinks, I think you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen. It pisses me off.

How dare she look so good like this? He thought she was gorgeous before, when she was decked out in full Kook attire in a full face of makeup and her best collection of skimpy crop tops and skirts, but the fact that she can rock tattered clothes and a sunburn is downright impressive to him.

The beach seems to extend infinitely behind her, curving around the bend of the island into a never-ending scene set in paradise, but he isn't focused on their heavenly surroundings, his focus is right here.

Drifting down the length of her body and back up again, he starts at her face. Strands of hair broken free from the loosened braid Kiara did to tie it back from her eyes frame her sun-kissed cheeks and float around like the wisps of wishing flowers in the wind.

Then, of course, there's the situation with her shirt that has been the sole source of his suffering for the duration of their time here. It's yet another of her cropped tank tops, off-white and existing for the purpose of teasing him with how her nipples poke at the thin fabric. Without bathing suits to evade the heat in, all of them pretty much never wear their whole outfits, and that is why her red panties are on display in the broad daylight.

She has some nerve to ask him that question in sarcasm when, as reality would have it, it's the truth. He appreciates every inch of her body, especially the sweet smile on her face that he knows her too well to take as anything other a taunt.

JJ jolts back to reality and crosses his arms over his chest in a way that makes her breath hitch in her throat at his biceps.

After another pause to pretend to consider it, he says, "Maybe if you weren't the antichrist."

He doesn't have the time to prepare himself for the attack before she starts chasing him down the length of the beach with a hefty stick laid to the side to add to the hut's roof, laughing as she promises to stick her weapon of choice "somewhere where the sun don't shine".

Needless to say, he ends up hiding behind Sarah and demands she keeps her "demon" in line.

"Was it more of a joke or more like he called you pretty as an actual compliment?" Sarah asks in a hushed tone from where she sits on the log beside Y/N.

A bonfire crackles steps away from where they sit while the rest of their friends are busy amongst their own conversations and respective activities. It casts prancing shadows upon their bodies and faces, illuminating their reactions to the top secret boy talk session.

After she begrudgingly agreed not to chase down JJ with a stick over his antichrist joke, the day fell back into the reliable routine of finishing the roof on their hut and spending the rest of the afternoon doing whatever it is their hearts desired. He went off on his lonesome to bodysurf until his muscles turned to noodles. Meanwhile, she was about to attempt to find a hiding spot to take care of her ongoing problem when Kie roped her into climbing palm trees for coconuts, which ended up being a worthwhile mission now that she feasts on hers with Sarah.

The seashell in her hands, washed clean with fresh water from a stream leading down the mountain from what she assumes is a waterfall, acts a spoon to scoop up the raw fruit from the shell. It's an effort not to moan at the sweet, nutty flavor of it with every mouthful that meets her tongue, but she keeps a handle on it for the sake of her interaction with Sarah.

She chews on her lip in contemplation of the question.

"At first, I thought it was a joke, but then he looked at me."

Sarah asks, "What do you mean he looked at you? He looks at you all the time."

This wasn't a simple look.

Her eyes are drawn up from the fire to find where JJ sits with John B in front of the crashing waves, letting their feet get washed in saltwater every so often when the tide pushes closer to them. They're talking amongst themselves too, much like how Kie, Cleo, and Pope do as they play cards across the fire, and she wishes she could hear across the distance to know what they're talking about.

With the moon reflecting off of the ocean in a shimmering light that allows her a glimpse at his silhouette, she can recognize him from so far away. This is how it always was between them. Even during their previous rivalry, she was keenly aware of his presence at all times, tensing up and fighting to breathe whenever he got too close.

If anything, that's heightened now. She senses it in fleeting moments where their hands brush, or when they fall asleep a few feet apart under the half-finished hut they've been building together. What used to be an all-knowing awareness to him has progressed into a constant sensation of butterflies in her stomach, and she fucking hates it.

She forces herself to look away from him and come back to the conversation at hand before Sarah starts teasing her for being so obvious about her crush on him.

"I mean, he was checking me out. Like full-on leering, looking me up and down checking me out. I probably wouldn't have thought he was doing that if I hadn't seen him do it to a million other girls at parties before," she explains.

"And we're you into it?"

Her silence speaks volumes.

"Oh my god!" Sarah whisper-shouts at a volume Y/N hopes their friends across the bonfire can't pick up on, eyes widening with the realization of what's been happening right under her nose, "You were into it! Since when do you like JJ? More importantly, since when does JJ like you? I thought you guys hated each other."

There wasn't a specific incident that catapulted them into their years-long rivalry. In her memory, it happened the second they met each other, or, at least, learned of each other. Aspects of their personalities didn't mesh together well, and with the added hostility of JJ's predisposition against her for being a Kook, a hatred blossomed between the two of them.

It made Sarah want to rip her hair out every time she was reminded of their mutual dislike, because she, as well as everyone else, could look past it to see how perfect they are for each other.

She tucks the hair that the stubborn breeze continually blows out of face behind her ear and lets her chest sinks in a deep sigh.

"We did, but now I don't know. I can't speak for him, but for me...he's definitely tolerable now," she trails off into silence for a second, then says with her cheeks burning red, "I can't help myself, Sarah, he's way too hot. That shit should be illegal."

Her friend throws her head back in laughter at her pathetic, whiny complaint about him and pats her on the back a few times.

"Yeah, that settles it. You're officially simping for JJ. Congratulations for finally seeing the light after years of someone"���she coughs the word "me" under her breath in between words—"trying to set y'all up."

She isn't lying, her and their friends did try to set them up or convince them to give each other a chance for years, but neither of them were receptive to it. Ever the stubborn pair, they refused to see any other perspective of their enemy and laughed, actually laughed, at their friends for thinking they'd make compatible couple.

When she looks back up to find him sitting on the beach with John B, he isn't there. Instead, the two friends are walking up the sand back to the fire side by side, shoving each other around in a playful fight that prompts Sarah to roll her eyes at their antics, smiling to herself.

Slowly, his silhouette grows into a fully technicolor rendering of him thanks to the light from the fire shining out around the area of beach they occupy. Somehow, within this picturesque utopia, he is the most noteworthy sight to see. His windswept hair has fallen into his face just enough for it to not bother him as he clambers up to their hangout and makes to sit down on the log next to theirs, and he's about to get settled in when a voice next to her halts him.

Sarah takes a peek at the dwindling pile of sticks and brush they've compiled as firewood and says, "Guys, I think we're running out of stuff to burn." Her smile turns sweet, way too sweet, for the next part. "JJ, Y/N, would you mind finding some more?"

The instant reaction in Y/N's mind is to glare at her best friend and tell her to force her boyfriend to do it, 'cause God knows that boy is whipped enough to do whatever she pleases, but she can't let it show. And though she doesn't want to look at JJ immediately after the question is asked, she doesn't have much of a choice in the matter, does she?

They turn their heads to look at each other, and right when she expects him to over-exaggerate a groan and beg someone else to go in his place alongside the antichrist, he doesn't. His face is as relaxed as it'd be if it were any of the others he was asked to go with, and his tired eyes soften into fondness upon making contact with hers.

She's starting to wonder if she really did bonk herself on the head with the coconut she's eating and fall into an alternate reality where she and JJ somehow...like each other? First, he checks her out on the beach, and now he doesn't object to voluntarily spending time with her? Who is this man and what has he done with JJ Maybank? This must be a genuine Bodysnatchers situation. Otherwise, there's no logical explanation for it in her mind.

He pushes himself off of the log, dusts the sand off of his hands, and gives Sarah a two-finger salute in acknowledgement of her request.

"Aye aye, Capitán," he says.

Y/N is left standing there, torn between wanting to follow him into the forest and being too afraid of the feelings that might stir to the surface if they're alone together, with this pleading look in her eyes. Neither Sarah or John B are particularly sympathetic to her situation considering their own wishes to push their friends together. Sarah smiles innocently at her while John B simply shrugs in indifference to her suffering, though deep down he's as interested in the developing connection between them as she is.

Little do the girls know, the conversation they were having by the fire wasn't too different to that of the one he and JJ had by the water.

"I'll get you for this," she says through her teeth to her softly enough for JJ not to hear ten feet ahead of her.

Sarah counters, "I'd like to see you try."

As she walks off after him in the direction of the forest, she throws up the middle finger at her two friends.

The light from the fire grows scarce with every step she takes away from them, letting her hand fall back to her side and swing with her movements. Darkness envelopes her under the foliage of palm trees as she crosses over from the beach into the dense wooded area that houses fallen branches, sticks, and bushes that'll provide what they need to fuel the bonfire. Between the tree trunks, she can vaguely make out his shadowy figure up ahead.

She stumbles through on bare feet and bends to collect sticks she feels meet her toes every few steps. The bundle of wood and leaves sits under her curved arm, trapped into her waist as the beach grows further behind her until the light of the fire no longer has any impact outside of its existence as a beacon of light in the distance. It's her reminder of the conversation she had before they left, allowing it to live inside to her head the way his lingering stare on the beach did all day.

The minutes in peaceful silence, save for the crashing waves and chirping birds, and she becomes so lost in her head, she doesn't focus on where she is and what she's doing.

In the landscape of her daydream, she pictures JJ pushing her up against the outside wall of the hut instead of what actually happened.

She pictures him hefting her up into his arms until her legs loop around his waist and her hands grapple for stability on his shoulders, the two of them dissolving into a sinful pleasure right there on the beach together. The scene is set; a pair of ocean blue eyes looking into hers, a possessive touch placing her body exactly where he wants it, and a burning hatred sparking into passion between them—

Y/N shrieks in surprise as she is yanked away from the path she takes through the forest to follow JJ, but, as her wide eyes scan ahead to see if he's still there, his silhouette is nowhere to be found. The sticks held under her arm all clatter to the ground.

"JJ!" she shouts into the darkness for him, bucking wildly against the strong grasp her mysterious captor has on her, "JJ, please help!"

Her heels drag in the dirt as she is dragged away, kicking and screaming beneath the hand covering her mouth, and her mind races with the possibilities of what could be happening.

Are there other, potentially violent, inhabitants of their island that they had yet to encounter before tonight? Have they been watching them and waiting for the perfect moment to strike this entire time? The last question that comes to her mind with a stroke of spine-chilling realization makes her face pale in the moonlight. If there are other people, are they cannibalistic?

The image of human beings turned mad from years of isolation on the island haunts her for the short time it takes the person to manhandle her away from the path and behind the thick trunk of an old tree. Her hands are freed when they push her up against the bark, and she's reeling back her arm to throw a punch when the breeze blows apart the treetops to illuminate his face under the full moon.

"JJ!" she practically growls the word in contempt at the sight of him as her kidnapper, not the cannibalistic island man she conjured up in her imagination, "You're an asshole, you know that, right?"

He laughs the most obnoxious, adorable laugh she's ever heard him make at her flushed face and the daggers throws him with her eyes. His crooked canines are visible in his grin, and she wishes she didn't still find his smile so cute in the midst of her anger.

"I got you so good," he says through his cackling and rapid breaths, "You should've seen your face, it was like—"

"Shut up."

His smile fades at the prospect of her genuine hatred for him, realizing quickly that his stupid prank might've taken things too far. When she first reacted, he didn't think she was that angry, but now that he sees her face again, he knows she's serious.

It's only now that her fear has receded that she notices how close their faces are. With her back still pressed up against the tree trunk, he's close enough to her that one wrong move could send their lips brushing together, and it constricts her ability to breathe until he speaks again.

"It seemed kinda funnier in my head—"

He is interrupted for the second time when she flattens her hands on his chest and shoves him back a few steps with hellfire burning in her irises.

The tension between them spikes with the outburst. They stare at each other, a foot apart now, and he can see the muscle in her jaw clenching. He assumed she pushed him away to give herself the space to walk back to the bonfire, but she doesn't go anywhere. She stands there with this mixture of fury and confusion on her face

Why does he have to infuriate her so much, yet simultaneously make her want him more than she's wanted a person in her life? The fact that she's attracted to him in the first place is what pisses her off more than his harmless prank ever could. Her desire urging her to pull him closer makes her relive every frustrating moment they've spent arguing, but it also brings back every time she caught herself liking him underneath it all.

JJ takes in a breath to say something more, then closes his mouth, unsure of what he can say without annoying her more than he already has. He's about to tell her he's sorry as she finally comes to an impulsive conclusion.

Unable to resist anymore, she utters the words, "Don't think this means I don't still hate you," and rushes through the space between them.

The way she launches herself at him with the full force of her strength sends him stumbling back multiple steps until he hits another tree behind his back, arms wrapped around her waist on the instinct to catch her. It takes a second for him to realize they're kissing. "Confused" doesn't begin to cover it, not one bit, but he doesn't resist the affection. If anything, once he overcomes the surprise, he returns the kiss with more aggression than she had to set it off.

He doesn't even wince at the dull ache of the back of his head hitting the tree trunk either, he's too lost in her to care about anything else, even pain.

The wet sound of their mouths connecting and their panting breaths are all that can be heard in the surrounding area, thankfully too far from the fire for their friends to hear or see them. It's a painfully quiet night otherwise, and she thinks she hears him make a restrained, muffled sound into her mouth when she presses her hips forward to meet his. Though unexpected, their sudden intimacy is intoxicating to her. From the feeling of his hands on her body to the sound he made a second ago, it’s impossible to stop.

All it takes is one swipe of his tongue on her bottom lip for her to open her mouth to him in an eagerness to deepen the kiss, letting out a soft little moan when his tongue slips into her mouth. One of his hands cups the back of her neck to keep her close while the other drifts down her hip and, in a fluid and swift motion, flips them around so she is caged in between his body and the tree.

Every touch they give one another, as well as every gasp and sigh and movement of their mouths, is tinged with the mutual dislike they've always had for each other. It may be a sexual encounter in the physical sense, but it's choreographed as a fight. Though, instead of being fought with weapons or fists, this one is fought with breathless kisses, wandering hands, and grinding hips with minds of their own.

Whether either of them wants to admit it or not, it has been a long time coming. Since they set foot on this island, the inevitable explosion of the tension between them has been a ticking time bomb waiting for the seconds to wind down. Now, the clock has struck zero, and it truly is an explosion.

Before they even realize what they're doing, Y/N's hands tug at the navy shirt covering his torso in a silent urging to take it off while he gets to work on the tempting white tank top he's dreamt of getting underneath for weeks. He flashes back to their time together on the beach today, the way he stared unashamedly at the thin polyester that left little to the imagination as she worked on the roof with him. At the time, he had no idea that it'd be mere hours later until his hands would sneak behind the hem to feel her up underneath it.

Before they do, though, he hoists her legs up around his hips and allows her to hook them behind his back to keep herself in place. His warm palms then slide under the top to cup her breasts in them, and it's only a second later that he breaks the messy kiss to lean down and latch his lips onto one of her hardened nipples.

The coconut undertone of her angry kiss is left behind on his tastebuds as he sucks at the sensitive bud, basking in the warm feeling it blossoms in his chest to hear her throw her head back against the tree in a mewling moan.

This is the girl he's hated since they first met, so why is he this ardent in his efforts to please her? More importantly, why does it make him feel so good to know he's succeeding in those efforts?

There are a million things he wishes he could ask or say to her but won't at the potential cost of cutting this short. He fears that if either of them gets the chance to think, they'll remember how much they loathe each other, and he doesn't want to stop himself from doing this because of a petty grudge. It's been too long since he felt another person touch him this way.

"JJ," she breathes his name out into the humid air like a prayer.

He moves away from his worship of one nipple to continue it on the other.

The hand that isn't cupping her ass to keep her against him slides down the length of her chest down to her hips, which grind her clothed pussy against the hard wall of abdomen muscles in front of her in a desperation for relief so powerful, she can't help herself. The repetitive action has the seam of her tight shorts rubbing against her clit, and the combined sensations make her stomach flutter with the familiar feeling of arousal.

Knowing they'll soon run out of time, JJ pulls away from her nipple to meet her face to face again, kissing her hard enough to make his teeth ache, and fumbles with the button of her shorts.

His breath is hot on her face as he retreats to mutter between kisses, "Wanna fill you up and watch it drip out of you"—she cuts in with a gasp at both the feeling of his fingertips moving beneath her panties to circle her clit and the brazen words that turn her on more than they should—"I waited so long for this..."

Somewhere, where the last logical side of her resides within her lust-blinded mind, an alarm raises at the whispered words he just said. She's too overwhelmed with the pleasure of him rubbing her clit to bother asking, but she can't bury the curiosity no matter how low on her current priority list it may be. If it isn't something he said in the heat of the moment with no true basis in reality, then she wonders what "so long" means in the duration of their complex relationship.

She swallows back her mouthful of saliva to say the words, "Me too," back to him, but she doesn't get the chance. Her agreement is drowned out by the sound of a third voice shouting from the edge of the forest to them.

"Did you guys get lost?"

Cleo.

The pair is broken out of the trance of temptation by their new friend's voice. JJ's faces falls froward to burrow in her neck with a whimper of frustration in response to it, knowing he'll never get the release he needs for the erection straining against his shorts now that time has run out to evade their friends' suspicions.

She wiggles around in his strong embrace to send the clear message to let her back down into her feet his way. He complies instantly, of course, and pulls his hand out of her panties to let her slide off of his body until her bare feet meet the ground again. Their movements to make themselves presentable are so frantic, they almost forget to respond in the midst of it.

JJ shouts back in the direction of the fire glowing like a distant star between the trees, "Yeah, we did! I shouldn't have listened to Y/N, you know she's a dumbass with directions!"

He pulls her top back down for her while she sucks her stomach to zip her denim shorts up and push the silver button back through the hole to conceal the evidence of their almost sex.

"Maybe that wouldn't have happened if someone"—she forces a sarcastic tone to her otherwise shaky voice as she watches JJ lick his palms to smooth out the hair she ruffled through her fingers—"didn't make me drop the sticks!"

Cleo's laughter is faint from where they are but audible all the same.

"Well, don't get lost again! The fire's dying and the others are asking where you lovebirds went!"

The joking use of the term "lovebirds" makes both of their stomachs drop with the worry of their secret being obvious the second they return to the group. And, if they're being realistic, it will be if he doesn't get a handle on the tent situation going on with his shorts by the time they make it to the bonfire.

They walk in complete silence on the path back with the sticks she dropped now returned to her arms, and she watches him struggle to contain himself the entire time.

He takes deep breaths that expand his lungs out beyond full capacity as he wills himself to go soft in record time to see their friends without alerting them all of exactly what happened while they were gone. And when it doesn't let up by the time they're nearing the edge of the woods, he quickly slides his hand into his shorts to tuck his stubborn cock into the waistband to conceal it.

The contact with his hand only worsens the need to alleviate his problem before it aches from the neglect, but it's something he has to grit his teeth and deal with. There's clearly no opportunity to slip away unnoticed with or without her now that they've reached the beach, so he tries to keep his face blank when they sit back down.

They avoid looking directly at one another across the fire for the rest of the night, both wondering the same thing until they eventually retire to sleep at separate ends of their hut with their backs turned to each other...

What the hell did they just do?

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